


Strength in Numbers

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically the entire team and captain come together to take care of Charlie, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Service Top, Size Kink, Subdrop, Team Dynamics, Team Feels, Tenderness, There is just so much tender in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: No matter which team Charlie played for, he always hated subdrop and all the wild emotions that went along with it. And he wasn’t going to tell anyone about it now, not if he could help it. He wouldn’t be the needy, uncontrollable sub who was a burden on every other teammate—not anymore, not now that he was a professional. No reason he couldn’t handle subdrop on his own. No reason to be a bother to anyone.—————When Charlie unexpectedly plunges into subdrop following a winning game, he's too embarrassed to ask for help and tries to go through it alone. But the Bruins doms take care of their subs, and Charlie’s about to realize that his teammates aren’t going to stand by while he’s hurting.
Relationships: Boston Bruins Ensemble/Charlie McAvoy, Jake DeBrusk/Charlie McAvoy, Patrice Bergeron/Brad Marchand, Patrice Bergeron/Brad Marchand/Charlie McAvoy, Zdeno Chara/Charlie McAvoy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 106
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Strength in Numbers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Borderlinemediocre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Borderlinemediocre/gifts).



> To Borderlinemediocre, please enjoy our favorite captain being soft with his sub.
> 
> Enormous thank you to ladymondegreen for the beta! You're amazing! ₍ᐢ•ﻌ•ᐢ₎*･ﾟ｡

At first, the sensations were easy to ignore. The beginning of an ache creeping into the base of his skull, the press of weariness behind his eyes, and the tension-ridden ache of just being plain _tired._

But since they were already in the final stretch of a winning game and he was on the bench, Charlie was able to push the sensations aside without even taking the time to process what they were and what they meant.

Still, as the clock ticked down to the final minutes of the game, when it looked more and more like they would pull off a win, no energy or excitement stirred within Charlie, even as his teammates beside him thrummed with anticipation. The typical rush that games always brought him just wasn’t there, only a bone-deep exhaustion and a rising sense of anxiety. Both nagged at him insistently, poking and prodding until he registered what they were symptoms of.

Subdrop. He was in subdrop.

But he shouldn’t be, he argued with himself. He wasn’t a neglected sub; he had plenty of time with Zee, his Dom. They even lived together. Plus, he loved Zee. Subdrop—it wasn’t logical—it shouldn’t be happening. Not to him.

Reasoning away his feelings was how he pushed through the game, how he remained alert on the bench and ignored the burgeoning impulse to lean in and nuzzle against the nearest Dom for comfort.

Subdrop shouldn’t be happening. Not to him. 

An old, well-worn panic coiled in his chest, constricting his lungs—what would his Boston U teammates and coaches think? They didn’t mind subs, they accepted them—just as long as the subs in question were able to play without “special treatment.” He’d been bawled out by Coach before, in front of the entire locker room, because he couldn’t fully suppress his sub urges throughout games.

But then Charlie remembered, and he breathed in slowly, deeply, trying to relax his vise-like grip on his stick. And he reminded himself that he wore a different jersey now, that he was sitting on the bench at TD Garden, not Agganis. He wasn’t at Boston U anymore.

But no matter which team he played for, he hated subdrop and all the wild emotions that went along with it. And he wasn’t going to tell anyone about it now, not if he could help it. He wouldn’t be the needy, uncontrollable sub who was a burden on every other teammate—not anymore, not now that he was a professional. No reason he couldn’t handle subdrop on his own. 

While the clock ticked down, Charlie carefully regulated his breathing, very conscious of the cameras pointed at the Bruins bench, but he could sense his hold on himself rapidly slipping away. By the time the game was over and the Bruins’ victory celebration was amping up, it was all Charlie could do to fake a smile and hug a few teammates before clambering back into the dressing room. Zee stayed behind for an interview out on the ice, and Charlie caught his eye and sent him a smile before hurriedly turning away. He already was a sub who couldn’t kneel properly for Zee—he got nothing out of it, and it left him feeling more disconnected from his Dom instead of calmed or closer to him. If he added suddenly and inexplicably crashing into subdrop to his shortcomings, well—Zee might be a saint on par with Bergy, but even the holiest of hockey dudes had their limits.

Charlie would figure this out on his own. He didn’t need to bother Zee.

But after stripping off his gear and tights, Charlie could barely stagger over to the showers. By the time he finished rinsing off, his headache had multiplied and spread to every bone in his body, and now he was no longer just exhausted, but absolutely, utterly drained. It was as if every positive emotion he would or could have experienced had been siphoned from him. 

Traitor tears threatened to leak through the cracks in his charade as an inexplicable choking sensation blocked his airway. As the guys whooped and called to each other, high on their victory, Charlie fought to remain upright as he trudged back to his stall, terrified that his composure was on the verge of shattering. 

But none of the other hardships could compare with the actual act of getting dressed. Every movement was a fight to coordinate his limbs and pull his sweats over his legs and then arms. The latter needed several attempts; he was trembling too hard for it to work the first or second time. When he finally finished dressing again, he collapsed down into his seat, both relieved and ashamed.

Taking a moment to breathe, he did his best to focus on other stimuli in the dressing room to distract himself from his own misery, automatically seeking out the other subs. Pasta was snuggled up to Krej. He seemed to get a lot of going to his fellow Czech after emotionally charged games, Charlie noticed, envy surging in him as he blinked back the moisture swelling in his eyes. Meanwhile, Tuukka and Dobby were speaking quietly together, with Tuukka ignoring all Doms around him like he always did, preferring to exclusively sub for his Domme at home. 

In sharp contrast to both of them, Brad, the incomparable hero of the game, was bouncing from Dom to Dom, relishing in the high of their win and the Doms’ alternating compliments or good-natured chirping. A glance over at Patrice, Brad’s Dom, showed him watching the antics with an undisguised smile; as much as Brad’s critics complained that he was a bratty and uncontrolled sub, Charlie suspected that it was a point of pride to Patrice that Brad opted to submit to him and him alone out of all other Doms. 

Luckily for Charlie, as much as he was observing the other subs, no one was paying him any attention. None of the other guys had noticed his subdued attitude so far, and Charlie was just daring to hope that he could make his escape without anyone becoming aware of this little episode when Brad swaggered over, clapping him on the shoulder enthusiastically. 

“Nice game, Chuckie!” he said, with a smile so bright and beaming that Charlie couldn’t look at it directly. “It’s just like Wolverine said: ‘A good defensive is the best offensive.’ You’re a ten, bud, really helped us out.”

Swallowing, Charlie was determined to respond, lifting his head to look up at Brad. But the shift in position had black and purple spots swimming across his vision, and he dropped his head into his hands with a pained groan.

“Chuckie? Cheeks?” In an instant, all of Brad’s bravado was gone, replaced by worry for his fellow sub. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Before Charlie could find the energy to respond, Patrice had joined them, brought over immediately by the alarm in Brad’s voice. “You two okay?” he asked, concern threading through his usually sedate baritone.

Brad squeezed in beside Charlie in his stall, wrapping his arms around Charlie’s shoulders. Just the simple gesture brought on a deluge of relief so intense that it nearly knocked Charlie over. “Something’s wrong with Cheeks,” he told Patrice even as he rubbed Charlie’s arm comfortingly. 

The relief was short-lived, vanishing as it was swept away by a swell of panic. He wanted his Dom, but Zee wasn’t here; he wanted to be out of the locker room and curled up alone somewhere, but he was stuck where he was; and he didn’t want any of his teammates to know what was happening to him, but Brad and Patrice were so close to finding out. 

Charlie didn’t know he was shaking until he clamped his hands down on his knees to try to remain sitting upright and his legs began quavering in turn. Shallow, gasping breaths escaped his lungs, but he still couldn’t seem to draw in enough oxygen, and, to his utter humiliation, frustrated tears nearly spilled out of his eyes, forcing him to keep them closed.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, accompanied by Patrice’s soft voice. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said sympathetically. “You’re in subdrop, aren’t you?”

Forcing his eyes open, Charlie looked up at Patrice, resolving to deny it, but as he went to respond, a keening sob scraped out of his throat, his shoulders heaving with its weight as the anxiety and general sense of _wrongness_ clawed away at him. An inescapable sensation overwhelmed him that he was out of line, out of place, out of control—and worst of all, he was surrounded by teammates to witness it.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment, Charlie attempted to bury his face in his hands again, but Brad stopped him, seizing his wrists.

“Hey, stop that.” Brad leaned in to press a light kiss to Charlie’s temple and then spoke directly in Charlie’s ear. “Bergy and I can take care of you as we wait for Zee, huh? Would you like that?”

The suggestion was wonderful but horrible at the same time. Charlie _liked_ it, he _wanted_ it, but he hated that he needed it. What kind of sub needed this care when nothing had happened, when his team had won the game and everyone was happy?

On some level, Brad must have sensed his inner conflict, because he started stroking at the nape of Charlie’s neck, leaving his skin tingling at the touch, and making soothing noises all the while. “Listen, it’s all right. You think you’re the first sub Bergy has helped through drop? Guy’s a gent, he does it all the time. It’s not a big deal, okay?”

Blinking at the revelation, hopeful at the idea he wasn’t some anomaly, some freak, Charlie risked a cautious glance at Patrice, who nodded. 

“That’s right,” he confirmed, his dark eyes concerned but kind. “Subs go into drop sometimes when no one expects it. It’s just—it’s just something that happens. And since Zee’s not here, I want to help you—if you’ll let me.” 

Nothing on Patrice’s face showed any kind of lie or malice, none of the impatience or resentment Charlie had encountered from teammates and coaches alike at Boston U. And, chewing his lip slightly, he realized that as much as he welcomed the feeling of Brad’s arms around him, but that he yearned to have a Dom alongside him, too. Patrice offering comfort without any kind of conditions or annoyance seemed too good to be true, but Charlie was desperate enough to take that chance. 

But then, a new fear overwhelmed him.

“Zee,” he realized out loud, panic overpowering him again. He wanted to be with Patrice, but he also wanted to be _good,_ and he was Zee’s, so that meant he couldn’t be with Patrice or Brad, it meant he _had_ to be alone. So he _would_ be in subdrop alone, at least until Zee had finished with the press, and maybe then Zee wouldn’t _want_ to take care of him, maybe he’d want to relax, and then Charlie would be all alone again— 

Despair threatened to flood through him, but it drained away as Patrice firmly grasped Charlie’s chin between thumb and forefinger, lifting his face so their eyes could meet.

“Zee wouldn’t want you to be facing subdrop alone,” he told Charlie in a voice of quiet conviction, running a calloused thumb over Charlie’s lips, the rough skin prickling. “Don’t you think he’d want someone to take care of you if he couldn’t do it himself?”

The question sparked new clarity in Charlie, slicing through any fear like a ray of dawn shining through the nighttime gloom. Zee would want someone caring for him, Charlie knew. Someone he could trust. Above all other matters, Zee had always prized Charlie’s wellbeing, urging him to never hesitate to seek out one of the emergency Doms from the team’s trainer staff if he ever needed to. And Charlie didn’t see why going to Brad and Patrice would be any different.

With a deep, shaky breath, shoving down the part of himself hissing insults for being a primadonna who required comfort from a Dom in the first place, Charlie nodded.

“Okay,” he said, blanching at the tremor in his voice. “I’d—I’d like you guys to take care of me. Um, if that’s okay—”

Patrice pressed a palm to Charlie’s cheek, smoothing it down his face. “Of course that’s okay,” he said, with a tenderness in his voice that melted away Charlie’s reservations. “Come here.”

At Patrice’s beckoning for them to stand, both Charlie and Brad did so, following him over to the sub safe zone tucked away in the corner. Instead of being lined with stalls, the wall there held a wide, well-cushioned bench large enough for the three of them to sit comfortably. They settled there, and, remembering the welcome relief that had swept through him before, Charlie found himself turning and burying his face into Brad’s collarbone almost before Brad had fully sat down.

Brad chuckled, seeming delighted by the reaction. “A Dom right up on you, and you turn to me? Cheeks, you sure know how to flatter a sub.” His arms hooked around Charlie’s shoulders again, holding him close like Charlie wanted to be held, and he skimmed a hand through Charlie’s hair. “This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured directly into Charlie’s ear once more, his hot breath tickling his skin. “Letting us take care of you? You deserve it, you know, a good boy like you.”

Even though Brad was another sub, a hot glow flared within Charlie at his words, and he whined and burrowed his face deeper, inhaling the sharp, citrusy scent of his cologne. 

A warm, solid weight pressed into Charlie’s back, and he jumped as a second pair of arms looped around his shoulders, this time from behind. But Brad was quick to reassure him.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing soothing circles into the aching muscles on Charlie’s upper torso. “That’s Bergy, see? You’re here with both of us, and it’s going to be okay now.” 

“He’s right,” Bergy agreed, voice soft and kind, every exhale warming Charlie’s neck. “You’re fine, Charlie. You’re safe. I want you to just think about that, all right? Don’t think about being afraid or upset, and don’t be embarrassed,” he added, his tone going just a bit stern. “Just concentrate on what you’re feeling with us. Let anything negative fade away—you get to let go of that now. Think of how much better you’re feeling right now than just a few minutes ago, and let yourself continue to feel better.” 

What Patrice said was true—Charlie’s panic was drifting away now, and a new sense of—not _calm_ exactly, but just a good feeling—suffused through him. And having Brad and Patrice cuddling him close and whispering to him soothingly—that didn’t calm Charlie, either, but it was undeniably very, very welcome. 

Brad seemed to recognize his enjoyment. “I bet there’s a part of you that really likes this, hmm?” he asked teasingly, trailing his nails down Charlie’s back, and Charlie’s skin prickled through his shirt. “You really like having a Dom and a sub all over you. Makes you really special, really sexy that you can score both of us.” 

Heat rose in Charlie’s cheeks at the words, and he squirmed, arousal awakening low in his belly. It did feel undeniably _nice_ to have them both here with him, in a way that was more than just comforting. With Brad and Bergy both wrapped around him, and Brad chuckling into his ear—he felt kind of . . . _enticing_ . Even though he knew they were just helping out a rookie, the result was that he felt _wanted_. Desirable. 

“Oooh, can’t sit still when you hear that, can you?” Brad asked, his grin apparent in his voice. “I’m right, then. You _do_ like this. You _really_ like this.”

An embarrassed whimper escaped Charlie’s throat, and the heat crawled down his cheeks to bloom across his chest.

Patrice chuckled. “Well, that’s all right, isn’t it?” Dipping down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the back of Charlie’s neck, he shifted slightly to stroke a light finger directly down his spine. “We want you to feel good, Charlie. That’s all we want. Let go of being self-conscious and grab onto that good feeling, sweet boy.” He curled an arm possessively around Charlie’s waist. “That’s what we want you to feel.”

But could they want that—could they _really?_ So many other Doms Charlie had met during his years in hockey had been annoyed or impatient with the idea of wasting time catering to a sub. Sure, Zee was different—but could the rest of the team be different, too?

Patrice certainly seemed to be, though. Every touch from him was tender, guiding, certain but slow. Nothing suggested resentment or impatience—plus, Patrice had approached him, Charlie recalled with a jolt of clarity, and then coaxed him and eased him into letting Brad and he comfort him. 

And Brad, Charlie remembered suddenly. Patrice was Brad’s Dom, and Charlie highly doubted that Brad would bother with a Dom who resented having to be patient or kind. No, Brad would ditch a Dom like that in less than a week.

Patrice could be trusted, Charlie realized, a sudden tenderness, a strong sense of gratitude, unfurling and wrapping around him like a blanket. Patrice wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to take care of him—and Brad wanted it, too, and he was a sub. His teammates—they _wanted_ him. 

Overwhelmed by their devotion, Charlie curled in on the two of them as close as he could manage, wanting nothing more than to feel safe with them for as long as it took Zee to return to the locker room.

But just as Charlie began to relax into the embraces of Dom and sub alike, his earlier tension seeping away, a new, unexpected touch on his legs had him snapping his eyes open and lurching back. To his utter shock, Brandon and Jake were kneeling before him, Brandon resting his head against the outside of one of Charlie’s thighs, and Jake nuzzling deeper into the shallow gap of Charlie’s mostly closed legs.

Stunned, Charlie could only stare even as Jake pushed forward, his face tickling the soft skin of his inner thighs. Even with his shock, the arousal low his belly climbed higher thanks to Jake’s actions. Biting back a moan, Charlie struggled against his own body, fighting to find reason rather than give in. He’d known, of course, that sometimes Doms knelt for subs to demonstrate their loyalty to them, to show they wanted to be of service, but he _never_ would have thought any Dom would willing offer that kind of gesture to him. Jake and Brandon—were they actually—? Could they really want—?

Brad nudged him, mischief glinting in his gaze. “I think Brandon and Jake here want to take care of you, too. You gonna let them?”

“I—I—” Charlie’s brain short-circuited. It was beyond comprehension to be surrounded by three separate Doms who were ready and willing to prove their affection for him, to have even one who wanted him as much as Jake did.

“Doms want to comfort subs when they see them in distress,” Patrice explained to him, his eyes gleaming with approval as he glanced at Jake and Brandon. “Nice work, boys, this is just what you should be doing.” He spread a hand wide on Charlie’s back, fingertips pressing into his skin through his shirt. “Subs should be handled with care.”

“We want to,” Jake declared. His hair was still damp from the shower and tousled from toweling it off, like he’d rushed through his post-game routine just to get to Charlie. “Well, _I_ want, too,” he remarked, noticing that Brandon seemed content with simply draping his head on Charlie’s thigh.

Excitement and anticipation fluttered within Charlie—a Dom not only knelt before him, but seemed legitimately _interested_ in him and was nuzzling closer, slowly but surely encouraging Charlie to open his thighs further.

Crowding into his space even more, blanketing Charlie’s body with his own, Bergy brushed a soft kiss to Charlie’s throat, and then murmured into his ear. “Seems like they _really_ want to take care of you,” he said, his voice rich with satisfaction. “You gonna let them?”

Charlie quivered at the prospect, exhaling shakily. He wanted it as well, he ached for it, he needed it, but an old instinct flickered within him, warning him away from ever showing any sign of being a sub in the locker room. 

Yet here was Patrice beside him, Jake before him, and Brandon a comforting weight on his left thigh, and he could please all three of them just by agreeing. And as he trembled with excitement, he realized that he wanted to please them more than anything else, his learned instincts giving way to his deepest cravings, his basest need that he’d tried to bury away for far too long.

 _“Yes,”_ he gasped, half-dazed, not even sure if the scenario playing out before him was really happening and not just some kind of reverie. “Yes, I want you to take care of me.”

A smug smile flashed across Jake’s face. “Spread your legs,” he ordered, firmly nudging his forehead deeper into Charlie’s thighs.

Charlie did, stretching them as far apart as they could go, fresh heat rippling across his face and chest as the new position left him more exposed and vulnerable than ever. To his surprise, Brad and Patrice each grabbed one of his knees almost simultaneously, forcing his thighs to remain wide open. Just as Charlie opened his mouth to let out a cry of surprise, Jake launched forward, frantically mouthing at his cock straight through his sweats.

A sharp yelp of pleasure burst from Charlie, and all he knew for the next several seconds was the sensation of warm lips teasing him through the fabric. A frustrated groan tore out of him as Jake continued, desperate to have Jake’s mouth on his cock entirely, no barrier blocking the way.

Just as his fingers began fumbling to yank down his sweats, Bergy seemed to read his mind. 

“Lift your hips,” he whispered into Charlie’s ear, the command soft but unmistakable.

Charlie obeyed without thinking, eager to please. He wanted to show Patrice he could listen, that he could be good, that he deserved— 

“Good boy,” Patrice praised him, and Charlie flushed even further. His entire body was feverishly warm but tingling pleasantly, he doubted he’d be able to form words, and his mind was overrun by a single victorious thought: _they want me, they really want me, they want me—_

As if of one mind, both Patrice and Brad slid his sweats and briefs alike down to Charlie’s knees to allow Jake access. And Jake didn’t hesitate, shoving the clothes down to the floor without wasting a moment, and then latching onto Charlie’s cock like he ached to have to go without it.

As Jake’s wet lips enveloped his cock, Charlie’s breath hitched and his world blazed to life. A sharp cry tore out of his lips, and he jolted where he sat. If it hadn’t been for Brad and Patrice supporting him, he would have tumbles out of his seat. As it was, his hips rolled and bucked, instinctively wanting to thrust into Jake’s mouth, and he had to fight to keep himself still and simply let the pleasure roll over him in waves.

 _They want this for you,_ Charlie thought headily, blood pounding in his ears. _Everything that’s good for you, everything that makes you gasp or moan—they want that for you._

Then Jake’s tongue flicked beneath Charlie’s cock, lapping along the underside of the head, and all rational thought fled Charlie’s mind as a strangled wail escaped his lips, his hips arching in need. 

_“Oh,”_ Charlie gasped out, his brain barely able to form words. If he’d been engulfed by a pleasant heat before, now it was like standing in front of a blazing furnace. “Oh—oh my God—I—” 

“You like this, Charlie?” a new voice asked, rumbling out from the corner of Charlie’s vision. “You like being surrounded by Doms who want to worship you?” 

Pushing through the haze of pleasure, Charlie turned his head as much as he could, his eyes taking far too much time to focus. Concentration was almost impossible with Jack still swirling his tongue like he was, but Charlie dimly detected a towering figure leaning against a nearby wall, leisurely watching the show.

 _“Zee,”_ Charlie rasped, outstretching a shaky hand to him. “Zee, please—”

A smile twitched on Zee’s lips even as he raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. “Seems to me like you’re fine. You should sit back and enjoy yourself.”

Another groan wrenched out of Charlie as Jake began to hum, the vibrations racing along Charlie’s cock to wrack his entire frame, and his arm faltered, nearly falling.

 _“Please,”_ he begged Zee. He was getting close, he knew it, and he wanted Zee with him for it. “Zee, I need— 

Those were the magic words—Zee could never deny giving a sub what they needed.

In about two strides, he crossed the room to join their group at the bench. Without being asked, Brad slipped out of his seat, giving up his seat to Zee, and wove around Brandon and Jake to kneel at Patrice’s feet. 

Without missing a beat, Zee slotted into the spot Brad had vacated, winding an arm tightly around Charlie’s shoulders and resting a possessive hand over his abs, splaying his fingers over the muscles. 

“You have what you need now?” he murmured, gazing down at Charlie, his green eyes dark with intensity. “Tell me if there’s anything else.” His voice was firm, his gaze unyielding, but at the same time, he was determined to give Charlie anything he asked for.

Before he could answer, Jake fully deepthroated him for the first time, and Charlie stuttered and gasped, utterly breathless. He struggled to refocus and respond, all the time very aware that Zee could feel his abs clenching and unclenching beneath his fingers.

“I want an answer, Charlie,” Zee’s voice rumbled low and gentle in his ear.

“N-n-nothing else,” Charlie stammered out with a mighty effort, barely resisting the temptation for each word to morph into a moan. “Y-you’re here.”

“I’m glad.” Zee somehow squeezed Charlie even tighter. “My good boy shouldn’t have to go without what he needs.”

His Dom’s words brought another flush rippling through Charlie, and he thought his skin would ignite with the heat coursing through him. But Zee wasn’t anywhere near finished. Shifting himself in his seat, he leaned down to suck at the spot where Charlie’s neck met his shoulder, and just as Charlie adjusted to the sensation, he nipped lightly at the moistened flesh.

“Zee!” Charlie jerked where he sat, Jake’s teeth scraping at his cock as he did.

Still beside Charlie, Patrice laughed, its pulse falling into the shell of Charlie’s ear. “I think your Dom has the right idea,” he murmured, and then tugged at the neck of Charlie’s shirt, pulling it aside as best he could. 

The movement constricted Charlie’s throat slightly, and he was about to object when Patrice lowered his head to drag his wet tongue along the hollow of his collarbone. Any complaint immediately transformed into a helpless moan.

Zee chuckled, each of his breaths tingling Charlie’s neck and then traveling down to the base of his spine. “You’re being so _spoiled,”_ he said lowly. He pushed a sweaty forelock of Charlie’s hair back behind his ear. “No better thing for you to be.”

With Jake’s relentless attention, Zee’s whispered words, Patrice’s careful teasing, and Brad and Brandon still pressing in on his other side, Charlie felt like he was drowning in the attention and care the Doms were heaping onto him. Four Doms and a sub, and _he_ was the center of all of their attention. He stuttered for breath at the thought, his face more heated than he thought humanly possible.

Climax stirred inside of him, building slowly but surely. And Charlie’s blush deepened even further when he realized he was going to orgasm in front of his teammates when he’d only ever shared it with Zee before. He tried to shift away, but with Zee and Patrice bracketing him in on each side and Jake’s hot mouth working him into a frenzy at the front, there was nowhere for him to go.

“Zee.” Charlie’s voice sounded wet and desperate to his own ears. “Zee, I need—” 

“Shh, shh, shh.” Zee stroked his hair. “We’ll give you what you need, hmm?”

A whimper of protest escaped his lips, and Charlie didn’t know how he’d face the embarrassment of letting his teammates see him at his most private and vulnerable.

“None of that, now,” Zee scolded him ever so gently, his hand drifting down to tap at Charlie’s hip. “You deserve to feel good, and Doms deserve to know their hard work has paid off. Be good to yourself, Charlie, and remember how much each of us wants you to have this pleasure. Trust them. And trust me.” 

An old part of Charlie wanted to argue, wanted to say he couldn’t trust these Doms. But Zee was right, they’d treated him better than he ever had dreamed, and he trusted Zee, and besides that, he could feel his orgasm, so close, it was so close, it was _right there—_

Each of his limbs quaked as Charlie fought to resist dissolving into Patrice and Zee’s arms, even as he grew increasingly aware of climax swelling within him, a wave about to crash over him whether he could outrun it or not. 

_“Zee,”_ Charlie said raggedly, straining to resist bucking his hips into Jake’s mouth. “Zee, I _can’t—”_

“This is all for you, Charlie,” Zee reassured him, dipping down and brushing his lips to Charlie’s temple. “All for you.” He dragged a thumb across Charlie’s cheek, and Charlie’s skin somehow burned even hotter at the touch. “Come whenever you want.”

With a strangled moan, Charlie gave in. Orgasm rocked through him, and he collapsed back against Zee’s strong profile, his head dropping onto his Dom’s shoulders as overwhelming pleasure changed his bones to liquid, rendering him unable to think or move.

For several moments, the room seemed to fade away, but then it returned with hazy consciousness as Charlie gradually became aware that Zee had lifted him up and settled him on his lap. His enormous frame curled in on Charlie protectively to press his chest to Charlie’s back, with one of his arms hooking around Charlie’s waist to keep him close. 

“My good boy,” Zee murmured to him, his smile evident even when it wasn’t visible. He fingers trailed his fingers across Charlie’s scalp, heat radiating from his body and keeping Charlie warm even in the afterglow. “Always working hard for me. And I always see.”

Happiness coiled low and warm in Charlie’s gut, suffusing throughout his entire form, and he would have been content to lounge peacefully in his Dom’s arms for the next few minutes, but then his legs were pushed apart again, and the soft touch of lips began caressing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. 

Startling out of his soporific fog, he glanced down to find Jake littering his legs with the most chaste of kisses, as though his frantic drive to pleasure Charlie from just moments ago was only part of some ridiculous fantasy.

But then Jake raised his gaze to Charlie’s, grinning up at him with red, swollen lips, undeniable evidence how he’d leapt at the chance to help him.

 _He did that for you,_ Charlie thought to himself, overwhelmed by a rush of affection for his teammates, by the affection they’d raced to show him when he’d needed it most. _This Dom, your Dom, Brad’s Dom—look at everything they’ve done just to help you._

“Perfect for me,” Jake murmured, his eyes flashing as he gazed up at Charlie, and then he sprung up, shoving in between Charlie’s still spread legs and kissing him soundly with those swollen lips.

Charlie could only sit there, stunned and breathless and resting limply against Zee for support. The most he could do was moan into Jake’s mouth as Jake nipped and sucked on his lips, freshly excited by the renewed attention. 

When Jake broke the kiss, he only moved back a fraction, remaining close with his hands on Charlie’s knees, breathing Charlie’s air, leaving him completely dazed. 

“Absolutely perfect,” Jake repeated, cupping his face and staring at him like there was nothing he’d like better than to close in and kiss Charlie again. 

Vague, embarrassed pride pulsed through Charlie at Jake’s words, and while tempted to turn and bury his face in Zee’s shoulder, he forced himself to hold Jake’s gaze, squirming at the way he looked at him but delighted by it at the same time. Seeming to recognize his struggle, Jake smiled at him and dropped back down to kneel beside Brandon, like he was determined to demonstrate his loyalty to Charlie until the last.

“For us,” Brandon corrected from Charlie’s lower left, and when he glanced down at him, he saw that Brandon was looking at him with the mixture of arousal and awe that Jake had.

Thrills zipped through Charlie, and he instinctively ducked his head as he realized multiple Doms regarded him in that manner. Even after everything that had just happened, it felt like they should be looking at any sub but him that way.

Patrice still held Charlie close, and he murmured into Charlie’s once more.

“Feels better now, hmm?” he breathed, one of his hands leaving Charlie to reach down and tangle in Brad’s hair. “That’s all we want for you, for any sub. We just—we want you to feel good.” Swallowing thickly, he remained crowded in on Charlie, but let his gaze drift down to rest on Brad as well.

“So good for me,” Zee whispered in Charlie’s other ear, his calloused fingers slipping beneath the hem of his shirt to trace the “V” of Charlie’s bare pelvis. “So good for everyone, so good, letting them take care. My good boy, my sweet boy.” He nimbled lightly at Charlie’s ear, chuckling as he drew a faint whimper. “You deserve all of this and more.” 

A warm shiver ran through Charlie at his Dom’s praise, and he let himself sink back into the touch, exhausted once more, but this time, any and all anxiety now replaced by the glow of accomplishment.

* * *

It was plain that Charlie was tired to the bone, and Zee, ever solicitous of his sub’s well-being, helped him into the car for their drive home and then out again when they arrived. Once there, he ushered Charlie into the bedroom and wrapped him in a cozy blanket, and then stepped away to the master bathroom to run a hot bath for them both. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have pressed the issue, not when Charlie’s weariness was so readily apparent, but Charlie had dropped tonight, and he knew the situation warranted special attention. Zee would never neglect Charlie—he simply couldn’t. 

Once the jets of the jacuzzi tub were spitting water at a rapid pace, Zee tossed in a generous portion of salts to ease their muscles, and then helped Charlie undress before guiding him in. The combination of the game and its aftermath had sapped Charlie’s energy, and a low groan escaped him as he settled into the warm water.

“I’m probably going to fall asleep right here,” he remarked sheepishly, burrowing in Zee’s side. “God, I don’t remember ever being this tired before.”

Zee merely scooped Charlie into his lap, chuckling slightly at his squeak of surprise. “It’s perfectly all right if you do,” he assured him, splaying a hand across Charlie’s chest and pressing him back until he rested plush against Zee. “You’ve had quite a time of it, haven’t you?” Reaching for a washcloth, he dipped it into the water and then began tracing it along Charlie’s collarbone, where both his and Patrice’s love bites were beginning to bloom. “You just rest for now. I’ve got you from here. And let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“If that’s what you want, Zee,” came Charlie’s shy reply, and Zee just laid a kiss to his temple.

The bath provided the perfect opportunity to lavish Charlie with attention, and Zee was loathe to miss any chance for that. Subs should always be given special consideration, in his view, but particularly after they’d plummeted into subdrop, no matter how briefly.

Now, Zee carefully washed Charlie’s torso and each of his limbs, spreading a calming soap down his aching arms and legs. He kissed and caressed every inch of Charlie within reach, before taking a vial of lavender oil and massaging ample amounts into his sub’s sore muscles, determined to drain them of all tension, and whispered encouragement to him with each low moan that escaped Charlie’s mouth. Anything he could do to make his sub feel loved, luxuriant, and beautiful, he did. 

Charlie belonged with Zee, and Zee would not allow a moment to slip by without reminding Charlie of such. 

By the time Zee had indulged himself in reaffirming with his sub that he was loved, that he was _adored,_ Charlie was positively boneless, barely able to stand on his own. With exceeding caution, Zee helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel, guiding him back into the bedroom. There, he helped Charlie dress in soft pajamas of warm fabric to keep out the New England chill, but he added one of his own sweatshirts, the complimentary one gifted to him when he’d been a flag bearer at the 2014 Olympics, just to be sure he was warm enough. 

The sweatshirt was too long, obviously, the hem hanging well past Charlie’s hips. The arms didn’t fit properly either, the extra fabric draping over Charlie’s shoulders and then bunching up along the forearms. But as Zee gazed at him, noticing fondly how his blond hair was beginning to fluff out in gentle curls as it dried, spotting the unguarded contentment on Charlie’s face as they settled together beneath the bed’s thick down comforter—well. Charlie, in his opinion, had never looked more beautiful. 

Almost as soon as they touched the mattress, Charlie nestled into Zee’s side with a grateful sigh, no doubt relieved that sleep was in sight at long last. And, threading his hand through Charlie’s hair, Zee allowed several minutes to pass with Charlie snuggled against him, marveling with fresh wonder at the absence of any hesitation or reservation on Charlie’s part. 

For the first several months after claiming his spot on the roster, Charlie tended to be skittish with his sub urges, shying away from touch even when longing was visible on his face, remaining rigid in his stall after highly charged games even when the other subs opted to kneel. And while Zee had his suspicions, garnered from the shocked expression that had flitted across Charlie’s features when he’d explained that the choice to kneel or not was his, that he wouldn’t be judged either way, he’d resolved never to voice them. One day, he hoped, Charlie would have the confidence to confide in him, but Zee knew he would have to first prove himself worthy of that level of trust.

Softly, tenderly, Zee leaned down and brushed the barest kiss on top of Charlie’s head. Right here, in the arms of a Dom who cared for them, was where subs belonged. Any idiot could fuck a sub—and throughout the decades his hockey career, Zee had met plenty of that sort of lazy, selfish Dom who did that and only that where subs were concerned. But for a sub to relax, to feel safe and content and rest peacefully with a Dom at their side—that achievement required a higher grade of Dom. 

And to have Charlie overcome his nervousness about his sub urges and curl up in Zee’s arms, to trust him in spite of whatever he’d gone through—well, to put it simply, Zee was flattered. Nothing could speak higher of a Dom’s capabilities than to have a sub who felt safe around them, to let down their guard around them and be vulnerable.

Still, Zee had never been a man to rest on his laurels, and even if Charlie was mostly asleep, he wanted him to know that.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmured, lifting a finger and gently tracing the outline of Charlie’s cheek. 

Since hitting his teen years, Zee had always been all hard angles and harsh lines in terms of form, and maybe because of that, he’d always been taken with Charlie’s round face and the curves of his build. And clothed as Charlie was in soft pajamas and bundled in warm blankets, Zee couldn’t hold back a smile at the sweet picture he made, pressed up to his chest with his eyes closed, a solid block of warmth nestled right up against him.

But then the smile slipped from his face as his resolve steeled once more.

“I promise I’ll always strive as far as I can go to be worthy of you,” Zee vowed quietly, his arms tightening around Charlie. “I promise I’ll always keep you more than safe, keep you my first priority.”

At that, Charlie let out a small sigh, nuzzling closer, and Zee smiled again, melting anew at the sight. And he was tempted to simply let Charlie remain as he was so he could fade from a light doze into sleep, but a Dom had to do what was best for his sub.

Carefully but firmly, he roused Charlie, jostling him awake.

“One more thing before you go to bed,” Zee reminded him. “You need to eat after the game.”

Charlie grumbled at the pronouncement, but Zee remained resolute, smoothing a comforting hand down his spine before turning to the charcuterie board he’d placed on the bedside table earlier. 

“My good boy,” he murmured. “So strong for me, so strong to let your teammates care for you. You could use some food, hmm? Something to help keep that strength up, I think.”

When Charlie had expressed interest in going vegan like Zee, Zee advised against it for the time being. There would be plenty of time to experiment with his diet in the off-season, and no rookie was going to risk his health by cutting out essential nutrition—not under Zee’s watch, anyway. 

Opting for protein, Zee selected a piece of prosciutto-wrapped mozzarella, offering it to Charlie. “Here you are,” he said gently. “You can eat straight from my hand, if you like.”

Immediately, Charlie’s face flushed; they’d never done hand-feeding before. With Charlie as uncertain of himself as a sub as he was, Zee had never wanted to push the idea. But now, with Charlie cozy in bed after a night of being comforted by Zee and the team, perhaps he’d welcome the gesture. 

For a moment, Charlie was silent, his eyes searching Zee’s face, a worried frown wrinkling his forehead. But then the creases evened out slightly, and he gave a shy nod.

“If you don’t mind,” he replied in a low voice, his eyes flicking up to Zee’s to check if he did. 

Far from it. Satisfaction stirred within Zee that his sub was willing to take this risk for him, and in gratitude, he skimmed his fingertips down Charlie’s arm, hoping the touch would be comforting. With the other hand, he raised the bite of cheese and meat to Charlie’s mouth.

Only a brief pause passed before Charlie shifted forward, his lips grazing against Zee’s fingers to accept the food, tingles shooting through Zee’s arm as he did. 

As Charlie chewed, he leaned back, his shoulders hunching up defensively, and he planted his eyes firmly on the blankets and kept them there the entire time. Only once he swallowed did he shoot a quick glance up at Zee’s face, his shoulders filling with new tension, as if preparing himself to spot Zee laughing at him.

But Zee had no intention of doing any such thing.

“Marvelous, Charlie,” he told him softly, determined to reward his sub’s efforts. “Aren’t you just such a good boy for me?”

The flush on Charlie’s face deepened, spreading across his cheeks. In response, a rush of warmth unwound in Zee’s core, and he reached out, running a thumb along the smooth curve of Charlie’s jaw. The spark within him blazed into a bonfire as Charlie cautiously but unmistakably leaned into the touch, his shoulders lowering again.

 _Look at what you’re giving him,_ he thought to himself with an intermingling of wonder and pride. _Look at how much he’s willing to trust you._

Selecting a cube of asiago this time, Zee offered it to Charlie again, and a thrill shot through him when Charlie’s lips grazed against his fingers without even needing to glance up at him first.

“This is where you belong, you know,” Zee told him, letting his voice go low and languid. “Safe and comfortable with a Dom who cares for you. With a team who cares for you. I’d never want anything else for you—you belong where you’re loved, Charlie.” 

Lifting his gaze to look him in the eye, Charlie nodded, slow but sure. “I like it,” he said, his voice shaking, his body trembling. “I like—belonging with you. Belonging with the team. And I love—” his blush darkened again till his cheeks were stained pink—an utterly breathtaking sight that Zee drank in thirstily. “—being your sub.” 

He spoke as though he was confessing a painful secret—and very likely, Zee realized with a pang, it was painful for him. He might never have been allowed to truly enjoy any kind of submission before.

The least he could do was reciprocate, offer his own confession. 

“Nothing means more to me than keeping you safe, keeping you happy.” Zee squeezed Charlie’s shoulders, and it took an effort to be tender rather than indulge the urge to be intense, to be fierce and protective. 

But Zee rose to the challenge. After all, his sub was well worth it.

“I know that someone else hurt you, in some way or another,” Zee said gently, raising Charlie’s hand and brushing his lips along the knuckles. “And I can only imagine what it must take for you to give yourself to another Dom after that. But I promise, I swear that I’ll never take that for granted, that you chose to try again. And that you chose me.” He cupped Charlie’s face in an enormous hand, his fingers easily spanning to Charlie’s temple as his palm cradled his chin. ““I promise I’ll never never forget what you’re giving to me.”

Again Charlie went quiet, his eyes studying Zee’s face. “You still want me?” he asked, a heartbreaking sliver of hope in his voice. “Even though I’m . . .” he couldn’t seem to find a sufficient word, and he gave up, his shoulders hunching up defensively and defeatedly as the same time. “Even though I’m me?” he finished finally.

“No one more than you,” Zee told him, stroking Charlie’s cheek with his thumb. “I can hardly breathe when I think about how you’ve been hurt but are willing to try again so you can be with me. That you’re willing to take that risk for me. You think it doesn’t count because you’re not perfect all the time? You think having a past makes you ugly or that I think less of you because of it?”

At that, Charlie looked away, guilt written all over his face.

“Makes you beautiful to me,” Zee said firmly. “Lets me know you believe in me and have faith in me, to push aside your past to be vulnerable to me. So how could I not care for you, when you so clearly trust me with yourself?”

Zee wrapped an arm around Charlie, drawing him close and tucking his head beneath his neck. “So you see,” he said gently, “what matters most isn’t what you are to me, but what I am to you. You’ve decided to let me be with you even when you still hurt, and that—that means far more to me than the most perfect sub on earth ever could. You have wounds, maybe—but you’re willing to let me help heal them. ”

When he’d finished, Charlie raised his gaze to study him, a cautious but steady hope dawning in his eyes. Then he nodded slowly.

“Thank you, Zee,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Then, moving swiftly, Charlie darted up and laid a brief, sweet kiss on Zee’s lips before pulling back expectantly, his round cheeks pinker than ever. 

Zee couldn’t hold back a chuckle, ruffling his hair and murmuring to him lowly. “I knew you were my sweet boy.”

Charlie laughed as well, a tad embarrassed but obviously happy at all the same. Still, Zee’s sharp eyes spotted the weary shift in his muscles as he did, so he urged him to lay down.

“Rest now,” Zee instructed him softly. “You’ve earned it.”

When they had both settled into bed, he curled himself protectively around Charlie again, fresh determination rising within him as he recalled his promise to keep Charlie safe as long as they were together. 

But Zee’s last thought before drifting off to sleep beside his sub was a surge of gratitude, knowing that even if he wasn’t always able to be there for Charlie, the rest of the team would be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you have any thoughts or questions let me know, and every comment is a lovely comment to me. ❤️


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